"Reuben Maliki, save your wind for your widows--you don't give them too much of it.

And, Abraham Pigman, go home to your money-bags.

I am an old fool, am I?
Well, I've the more right to speak plain.

What are we waiting here for?
The judges?
Pooh! The sentence?
Fiddle-faddle! It is Israel ben Oliel, isn't it?
Then stone him! What are you afraid of?
The Kaid?
He'll laugh in your faces.

A blood-feud?
Who is to wage it?
A ransom?
Who is to ask for it?
Only this mute, this Naomi, and you'll have to work her a miracle and find her a tongue first.